RUBAIYAT  OF  DOC  SIFERS 
BY  JAMES  WHITCOMB    RILEY 


3fanu*  IWttomb  Kilt  g 


POEMS  HERE  AT  HOME. 
NEGHBORLY  POEMS. 
SKETCHES    IN    PROSE    AND 

OCCASIONAL  VERSES. 
AFTERWHILES. 
PIPES    0'    PAN    (Prose    and 

Verse). 

RHYMES  OF  CHILDHOOD. 
FLYING    ISLANDS     OF    THE 

NIGHT. 
OLD-FASHIONED  ROSES 

(English    Edition). 
GREEN    FIELDS    AND     RUN 

NING    BROOKS. 
ARMAZINDY. 
A  CHILD-WORLD. 
AN    OLD    SWEETHEART    OF 

MINE. 


RUBAIYAT    OF    DOC    SIFERS 
BY    JAMES     WHITCOMB     RILEY 


ILLUSTRATED 

BY 

C.  M.  RELYEA 


PUBLISHED    BY   THE    CENTURY    CO. 
NEW  YORK    MDCCCXCVII 


Copyright,  1897, 
By  THE  CENTURY  Co. 

Copyright,  1897, 
By  JAMES  WHITCOMB  RILEY 


THE  DEVINNE  PRESS. 


TO 

DR.  FRANKLIN  W.  HAYS 

THE   LOYAL    CHUM    OF    MY    LATEST   YOUTH 
AND  LIKE  FRIEND  AND  COMRADE  STILL 

WITH  ALL  GRATEFUL  AFFECTION  OF 
THE  AUTHOR. 


IX 


WE  FOUND  him  in  that  Far-away  that  yet  to  us 

seems  near  — 
We  vagrants  of  but  yesterday  wJien  idlest  youtJi 

was  here, — 
When  lightest  song  and  laziest  mirth  possessed  us 

through  and  through, 
And  all  the  dreamy  snmmer-earth  seemed  drugged 

with  morning  dew  : 


When  our  ambition  scarce  had  sJiot  a  stalk  or 

blade  indeed : 
Yours, — cJiokcd  as  in   the  garden-spot  yo2i  still 

deferred  to  "  weed  "  : 
Mine, — but  a  pipe  half-cleared  of  pith — as  now 

it  flats  and  whines 
In  sympathetic  cadence  witJi  a  JiiccougJi  in  the 

lines. 


Aye,  even  then —  O  timely  hour!  —  the  High  Gods 

did  confer 
In  our  behalf: — And,  clothed  in  power,  lo,  came 

their  Courier — 
Not  ^vinged  with  flame  nor  shod  with  wind,  — 

but  ambling  down  the  pike, 
Horseback,  with  saddlebags  bcJiind,  and  guise  all 

human-like. 


And  it  was  given  us  to  see,  beneath  his  rustic 

rind, 
A    native  force  and  mastery  of  sncJi   inspiring 

kind, 
That  half  unconsciously  we   made   obeisance. — 

Smiling,  thus 
His  soul  shone  from  his  eyes  and  laid  its  glory 

over  us. 


Though,  faring  still  that  Far-away  that  yet  to 

us  seems  near, 
His  form,  through  mists  of  yesterday,  fades  from 

the  vision  here, 

Forever  as  he  rides,  it  is  in  retinue  divine,  — 
The  hearts  of  all  his  time  are  his,  with  your  hale 

heart  and  mine. 


RUBAIYAT  OF  DOC  SIFERS 
BY  JAMES  WHITCOMB   RILEY 


RUBAIYAT 

OF 
DOC    SIFERS 


EF  you  don't  know  Doc  SlFERS  I  '11  jes  argy, 

here  and  now, 
You  've  bin  a  mighty  little  while  about  here, 

anyhow ! 
'Cause  Doc  he  's  rid  these  roads  and  woods  — 

er  swtim  'em,  now  and  then  — 
And  practised  in  this  neighberhood  sence  hain't 

no  tellin'  when ! 


II 

In  radius  o'  fifteen  mile'd,  all  p'ints  o'  com 
pass  round, 

No  man  er- woman,  chick  er  child,  er  team,  on 
top  o'  ground, 

But  knows  him  —  yes,  and  got  respects  and 
likin'  fer  him,  too, 

Per  all  his  so-to-speak  dee-fects  o'  genius 
showin'  through  ! 


Ill 

Some   claims   he   's   absent-minded ;    some   has 

said  they  wuz  afeard 
To  take  his  powders  when  he  come  and  dosed 

'em  out,  and   'peared 
To    have    his    mind    on     somepin'    else  —  like 

County  Ditch,  er  some 
New   way   o'    tannin'    mussrat-pelts,  er   makin' 

butter  come. 


m  mrjvv&aFi 


IV 

He  's   cur'ous —  they  hain't   no  mistake  about 

it !  —  but  he  's  got 
Enough  o'  extry  brains  to  make  a  jury  —  like 

as  not. 
They  's    no  describm'   Sifers, —  fer,  when  all  is 

said  and   done, 
He  's  jes  hisse'f  Doc   Sifers — ner  they  hain't 

no  other  one ! 


Doc  's  allus  sociable,  polite,  and  'greeable,  you 
'll  find  — 

Pervidin'  ef  you  strike  him  right  and  nothin' 
on  his  mind, — 

Like  in  some  hurry,  when  they  've  sent  fer 
Sifers  quick,  you  see, 

To  'tend  some  sawmill-accident,  er  picnic  jam 
boree  ; 


VI 

Er  when  the  lightnin'  's  struck  some  hare 
brained  harvest-hand ;  er  in 

Some  'tempt  o'  suicidin'  —  where  they  'd  ort 
to  try  ag'in  ! 

I  've  knowed  Doc  haul  up  from  a  trot  and 
talk  a'  hour  er  two 

When  railly  he  'd  a-ort  o'  not  a-stopped  fer 
"  Howdy-do  I" 


VII 

And    then,  I  've    met   him  'long   the   road,  a- 

lopin\ — starin'   straight 
Ahead, —  and   yit   he   never   knowed   me  when 

I  hollered  "Yatc, 
Old    Saddlebags!"    all    hearty-like,    er    "Who 

you  goin    to  kill?  " 
And   he   'd   say   nothin' — only   hike    on   faster, 

starin'  still  ! 


VIII 

I  'd  bin  insulted,  many  a  time,  ef  I  jes  wuz  n't 

shore 
Doc    did   n't    mean    a    thing.      And    I   'm    not 

tetchy  any  more 
Sence  that-air  day,  ef  he  'd  a-jes  a-stopped  to 

jaw  with  me, 
They  'd    bin    a    little    dorter    less    in    my   own 

fambily  ! 


10 


IX 

Times  now,  at  home,  when  Sifers'  name  comes 

up,   I  jes  let  on, 
You   know,   'at   /   think   Doc  's    to    blame,   the 

way  he  's  bin  and  gone 
And  disapp'inted  folks — 'L\-jee-mun-nec/  you  'd 

ort  to  then 
Jes  hear  my  wife  light  into  me — "  ongratefitl- 

est  <?'  men  !  " 


'Mongst  all  the  women — mild  er  rough,  splen- 
differous  er  plain, 

Er  them  with  sense,  er  not  enough  to  come  in 
out  the  rain, — 

Jes  ever'  shape  and  build  and  style  o'  women, 
fat  er  slim  — 

They  all  like  Doc,  and  got  a  smile  and  plea 
sant  word  fer  him! 


XI 

Ner  hain't  no  horse  I  Ve  ever  saw  but  what  '11 

neigh  and  try 
To  sidle   up  to  him,   and  paw,  and  sense  him, 

ear-and-eye : 
Then  jes  a  tetch  o'  Doc's  old  pa'm,  to  pat  'em, 

er   to  shove 
Along   their   nose  —  and    they  're    as   ca'm   as 

any   cooin'  dove ! 


XII 

And    same    with    dogs, —  take    any    breed,    er 

strain,   er  pedigree, 
Er    racial    caste  'at    can't    concede    no   use   fer 

you  er  me, — 
They  '11  putt  all  predju-dice  aside  in  Docs  case 

and  go  in 
Kahoots  with  him,  as  satisfied  as  he  wuz  kith- 

and-kin  ! 


XIII 

And    Doc  's    a  wonder,  trainin'  pets !  —  He  's 

got  a  chicken-hawk, 
In  kind  o'  half-cage,  where  he  sets  out  in  the 

gyarden-walk, 
And  got  that  wild  bird  trained  so  tame,  he  '11 

loose  him,   and  he  '11  fly 
Clean  to   the  woods!  —  Doc   calls   his   name  — 

and  he  '11  come,  by-and-by  ! 


XIV 

Some  says  no  money  down   ud  buy  that  bird 

o'  Doc. —  Ner  no 
Inducement   to   the   bird,  says    I,  'at   he  'd   let 

Sifers  go  ! 
And    Doc    he   say  'at  he  's  content  —  long    as 

a  bird   o'  prey 
Kin   'bide   him,  it  's   a  compliment,   and    takes 

it  thataway. 


XV 

But,  gittin'  back  to  docterirt  —  all  the  sick  and 

in  distress, 
And  old    and   pore,  and  weak   and   small,  and 

lone  and  motherless, — 
I    jes    tell  you    I  'predate    the    man  'at  's    got 

the  love 
To  "go  ye  forth  and  ministrate!"  as  Scriptur' 

tells  us  of. 


i8 


XVI 

Dull  times,  Doc  jes  //z/anders  round,  in  that  old 

rig  o'  his : 
And  hain't  no    tellin'  where   he  's   bound    ner 

guessin'  where  he  is ; 
He  '11  drive,  they  tell,  jes  thataway  fer  maybe 

six  er  eight 
Days    at   a    stretch ;    and    neighbers    say  he  's 

bin  clean  round  the  State. 


XVII 

He    picked    a'    old    tramp    up,    one    trip,    'bout 

eighty  mile'd  from  here, 
And   fetched   him  home  and  k-yored  his  hip, 

and  kep'  him  'bout  a  year  ; 
And   feller    said  —  in   all   his  ja'nts   round   this 

terreschul  ball 
'At  no  man  wuz  a  circumstance  to  Doc! — he 

topped  'em  all !  — 


21 


XVIII 

Said,  bark  o'  trees  's  a'  open  book  to  Doc,  and 
vines  and  moss 

He  read  like  writin'  —  with  a  look  knowed  ever' 
dot  and  cross : 

Said,  stars  at  night  wuz  jes  as  good  's  a  com 
pass  :  said,  he  s'pose 

You  could  n't  lose  Doc  in  the  woods  the 
darkest  night  that  blows  ! 


XIX 

Said,   Doc  '11   tell   you,   purty  clos't,  by   under- 

bresh  and  plants, 
How  fur  off  warter  is, — and  'most  perdict  the 

sort  o'  chance 
You  '11  have  o'  findin'  fish ;  and  how  they  're 

liable  to  bite, 
And    whether    they    're    a-bitin'    now,  er    only 

after  night. 


22 


XX 

And,  whilse  we  're   talkin'  fish, —  I  mind  they 

formed  a  fishin'-crowd 
(When  folks  could  fish  'thout  gittin'  fined,  and 

seinin'  wuz  allowed!) 
O'  leadin'  citizens,  you  know,  to  go  and  seine 

"Old  Blue"— 
But  had  n't  no   big  seine,  and   so  —  w'y,  what 

wuz  they  to  do  ?  ... 


XXI 

And  Doc  he  say  he  thought  'at  he  could  knit 

a  stitch  er  two  — 
"  Bring  the  materials  to   me  —  'at   's  all  I   'm 

astin'  you  !  " 
And    down    he    sets  —  six    weeks,   i  jing !    and 

knits  that  seine  plum  done  — 
Made   corks   too,   brails   and   ever' thing  —  good 

as  a  boughten  one ! 


* 


XXII 

Doc    's  public    sperit  —  when    the    sick    's    not 

takin'  all  his  time 
And  he  's  got  some  fer  politics — is  simple  yit 

sublime  :  — 
Pie  '11  talk  \&&  principles —  and  they  air  honest ;  — 

but  the  sly 
Friend    strikes     him    first,    election-day,    he    'd 

'commodate,   cr  die  ! 


XXIII 

And    yit,   though    Doc,   as    all    men   knows,   is 

square  straight  up  and  down, 
That    vote    o'    his    is  —  well,     I     s'pose  —  the 

cheapest  one  in  town  ;  — 
A  fact  'at  's  sad  to  verify,  as  could  be  done  on 

oath  — 
I  Ve  voted  Doc  myse'f — And  I  was  criminal 

fcr  both! 


26 


XXIV 

You  kin  corrupt  the  ballot-box — corrupt  your- 

se'f,  as  well  — 
Corrupt  some   neighbers, —  but    old    Doc    's   as 

oncorruptible 
As  Holy  Writ.      So  putt  a  pin  right  there  !  — 

Let  Sifers  be, 
I  jucks !  he  would  n't  vote  agin  his  own  worst 

inimy  ! 


xxv 

When  Cynthy  Eubanks  laid  so  low  with  fever, 

and  Doc  Glenn 
Told  Euby  Cynth  'ud  haf  to  go  —  they  sends 

fer  Sifers  then  !  .  .   . 
Doc    sized    the    case :  "  She    's    starved,"    says 

he,   "fer  warier  —  yes,  and  meat! 
The    treatment    'at    she  '11    git    from    me  's   all 

she  kin  drink  and  eat!" 


29 


XXVI 

He  orders  Euby  then  to  split  some  wood, 
and  take  and  build 

A  fire  in  kitchen-stove,  and  git  a  young  spring- 
chicken  killed; 

And  jes  whirled  in  and  th'owed  his  hat  and 
coat  there  on  the  bed, 

And  warshed  his  hands  and  sailed  in  that-air 
kitchen,  Euby  said, 

XXVII 

And    biled    that    chicken-broth,    and    got    that 

dinner  —  all  complete 
And    clean    and    crisp    and    good    and   hot    as 

mortal  ever  eat  ! 
And  Cynth  and   Euby  both  '11  say  'at  Doc  '11 

git  as  good 
Meals-vittles   up,  jes   any  day,   as    any    woman 

could  ! 


XXVIII 

Time    Sister    Abbick    tuk  so  bad   with  striffen 

o'  the  lung, 
P'tracted   Meetin',  where  she  had  jes    shouted, 

prayed  and  sung 
All    winter    long,    through    snow    and    thaw, — 

when  Sifers  come,  says  he : 
"  No,  M'lissy ;  don't  poke   out   your    raw   and 

cloven  tongue  at  me !  — 


XXIX 

"  I  know,  without  no  symptoms  but  them 
injarubber- shoes 

You  promised  me  to  never  putt  a  fool-foot  in 
ner  use 

At  purril  o'  your  life ! "  he  said.  "  And  I 
won't  save  you  now, 

Onless  —  here  on  your  dyin'  bed  —  you  con 
secrate  your  vow !  " 


XXX 

Without  a-claimin'  any  creed,  Doc's  rail  reli 
gious  views 

Nobody  knows  —  ner  got  no  need  o'  knowin' 
whilse  he  choose 

To  be  heerd  not  of  man,  ner  raise  no  loud, 
vainglorious  prayers 

In  crowded  marts,  er  public  ways,  er  —  i  jucks, 


XXXI 

'Less  'n    it    is    away    deep    down    in    his    own 

heart,  at  night, 
Facin'  the  storm,  when  all  the  town  's  a-sleep- 

in'  snug  and  tight  — 
Him  splashin'  hence   from  scenes  o'  pride  and 

sloth  and  gilded  show, 
To    some    pore    sufferer's    bedside    o'    anguish, 

don't  you  know ! 


XXXII 

Er  maybe  dead  o'  winter — makes  no  odds  to 

Doc,  —  he  's  got 
To  face  the  weather  ef  it   takes  the  hide  off! 

'cause  he  '11  not 
Lie  out  o'   goin'   and  p'tend  he  's  sick  hisse'f 

—  like  some 
'At    I    could    name    'at    folks    might    send    fer 

and  they  'd  never  come ! 


35 


XXXIII 

Like    pore    Phin    Hoover  —  when    he    goes    to 

that  last  dance  o'  his  ! 
That  Chris'mus  when  his  feet  wuz  froze — and 

Doc  saved  all  they  is 
Left    of   'em — "  'Nough,"    as    Phin    say    now, 

"  to  track  me  by,  and  be 
A  adver/z^ment,  anyhow,  o'  what  Doc  's  done 

fer  me !  — 


xxxiv 

"  When  he  come  —  knife-and-saw  "  —  Phin  say, 

"  I  knowed,   ef  I   'd  the  spunk, 
'At  Doc  'ud   fix  me    up  some  way,   ef   nothin' 

but  my  trunk 
Wuz    left,    he  'd    fasten    casters    in,    and    have 

me,  spick-and-span, 
A-skootin'  round   the   streets    ag'in   as    spry  as 

any  man  !  " 


XXXV 


Doc  sees  a  patient  's  got  to  quit  —  he  '11  ease 

him  down  serene 
As  dozin'  off  to   sleep,  and   yit  not  dope  him 

with  mor-p/teen. — 
He  won't  tell  what — jes  'lows  'at  he  has  "  airn't 

the  right  to  sing 
'O    grave,    where    is    thy   victery!      O    death, 

where  is  thy  sting ! ' ' 


XXXVI 

And,  mind  ye  now  !  —  it  's    not    in   scoff  and 

scorn,  by  long  degree, 
'At  Doc  gits  things  like  that-un   off:    it  's  jes 

his  shority 
And  total  faith  in  Life  to  Come, — w'y,  "  from 

that  Land  o*  Bliss," 
He  says,  "  we  '11  haf  to  chuckle  some,  a-lookin' 

back  at  this  !  " 


39 


XXXVII 

And,  still  in   p'int,  I   mind,  one   night  o    'niti- 

ation  at 
Some  secert  lodge,  'at  Doc  set  right  down  on 

'em,   square  and  flat, 
When  they  mixed  up  some  Scriptur'  and  wuz 

funnm'-\ike  —  w'y,  he 
Lit    in   'em    with    a    rep'imand  'at    ripped  'em, 

A  to  Z! 


XXXVIII 

And    onc't  —  when     gineral    loafin'-place    wuz 

old  Shoe-Shop  —  and  all 
The    gang    'ud    git    in    there    and    brace    their 

backs  ag'inst  the  wall 
And  settle  questions   that    had   went    onsettled 

long  enough, — 
Like   "wuz   no   Heav'n  —  ner   no    torment " — 

jes  talkin'  awful  rough  ! 


XXXIX 

There  wuz   Sloke  Haines  and   old  Ike  Knight 

and  Coonrocl  Simmes  —  all  three 
Ag'inst  the  Bible  and  the  Light,  and  scoutin' 

Deity. 
"Science"      says      Ike,     "it     dimonstrates  —  it 

takes  nobody's  word  — 
Scriptur'   er  not, —  it   'vestigates  ef  sich   things 

could  occurred  !  " 


XL 

Well,  Doc  he   heerd   this,  —  he  'd   drapped   in 

a  minute,  fer  to  git 
A  tore-off  heel   pegged   on   agin, —  and,   as   he 

stood  on  it 
And    stomped    and    grinned,    he    says    to    Ike, 

"  I  s'pose  now,  purty  soon 
Some    lightnin'-bug,    indignant-like,    '11   '  Vesti- 

gate '  the  moon  !  .  .   .  . 


XLI 

"No,  Ike,"  says  Doc,  "this  world  hain't  saw 
no  brains  like  yourn  and  mine 

With  sense  enough  to  grasp  a  law  'at  takes  a 
brain  divine. — 

I  've  bared  the  thoughts  of  brains  in  doubt, 
and  felt  their  finest  pulse,— 

And  mortal  brains  jes  won't  turn  out  omni 
potent  results ! " 


XLII 

And  Doc  he  's  got  respects  to  spare  the  rich 

as  well  as  pore  — 
Says  he,  "I  'd  turn  no  millionaire  onsheltered 

from   my  door."  — 
Says  he,  "  What  's  wealth   to   him   in   quest  o' 

honest  friends  to  back 
And    love    him    fer    hissef?  —  not   jes  because 

he  's  made  his  jack  !  " 


45 


XLIII 

And   childern. —  Childern  ?    Lawzy-day  !     Doc 

worships  'em  !  —  You  call 
Round   at   his   house   and   ast  'em  !  —  they  're 

cL-sivarmin'   there  —  that  's  all !  — 
They    're    in    his    Zzb'ry —  in    best    room  —  in 

kitchen  —  fur  and  near, — 
In    office    too,    and,    I    p'sume,    his    operatin'- 

cheer ! 


XLIV 

You  know  they  's  men  'at  bees  won't  sting? — 

They  's  plaguey  few,  —  but  Doc 
He   's  one  o'  them.  —  And  same,  i  jing  !    with 

childern  ;  —  they  jes  flock 
Pound    Sifers    natchurl /  —  in    his    lap,   and    in 

his  pockets,   too, 
And  in  his  old  fur  mitts  and  cap,  and  heart  as 

warm  and  true  ! 


XLV 

It  's  cur'ous,  too, —  'cause  Doc  hain't  got  no 
childern  of  his  own  — 

'Ceptin'  the  ones  he  's  tuk  and  brought  up, 
'at  's  bin  left  alone 

And  orphans  when  their  father  died,  er  mo 
ther, —  and  Doc  he 

Has  he'pped  their  dyin'  satisfied.  —  "The  child 
shall  live  with  me 


m 


49 


XLVI 

11  And  Winniferd,  my  wife,"  he  'd  say,  and 
stop  right  there,  and  cle'r 

His  th'oat,  and  go  on  thinkin'  way  some  mo 
ther-hearts  down  here 

Can't  never  feel  their  own  babe's  face  a-pressin' 
'em,  ner  make 

Their  naked  breasts  a  restin'-place  fer  any 
baby's  sake. 


XLVII 

Doc's   Lzb'ry  —  as   he    calls   it,  —  well,    they    's 

ha'f— a-dozen  she'ves 
Jam-full  o'  books — I  could  n't  tell  Jww  many 

—  count  yourse'ves  ! 
One    whole    shef's    Works    on    Medicine!    and 

most  the  rest  's  about 
First    Settlement,   and   Indians   in   here, — 'fore 

we  driv  'em  out. — 


XLVIII   ^ 

And  Plutarch's   Lives  —  and  life  also  o'  Dan'el 

Boone,   and  this- 
Here    Mungo    Park,    and   Adam    Poe — jes   all 

the  lives  they  is  ! 
And  Doc  's  got  all  the  novels  out,  —  by  Scott 

and  Dickison 
And   Cooper. —  And,    I   make   no   doubt,   he   's 

read  'em  ever'  one ! 


y 


53 


XLIX 

Onc't,   in   his    office,   settin'    there,   with    crowd 

o'   eight  er  nine 
Old    neighbers    with    the    time    to    spare,    and 

Doc  a-feelin'  fine, 
A    man    rid    up   from    Rollins,  jes    fer    Doc   to 

write  him  out 
Some     blame    p'scription  —  done,    I     guess,     in 

minute,   nigh  about— 


54 


And    /    says,    "Doc,    you    'pear    so    spry,   jes 

write  me  that  recei't 
You    have    fer   bein'   happy    by, —  fer    that   'u'd 

shorely  beat 
Your  medicine !  "  says   I. —  And  quick  as  scat! 

Doc  turned  and  writ 
And  handed  me :   "  Go  he'p  the  sick,  and  putt 

your  heart  in  it." 


LI 

And    then,    "A-talkin'    furder    'bout    that    line 

o'  thought,"  says  he, 
"  Ef  we   ']!  jes  do  the  work  cut  out   and  give' 

to  you  and  me, 
We  '11  lack  no  joy,  ner  appetite,  ner  all  we  'd 

ort  to  eat, 
And  sleep  like  childern  ever'  night  —  as   puore 

and  ca'm  and  sweet" 


55 


LII 

Doc  has  bin  'cuscd  o'  offishness  and  lack  o' 
talkin'  free 

And  extry  friendly  ;  but  he  says,  "  I  'm  'feard 
o'  talk,"  says  he, — 

"I  've  got,"  he  says,  "  a  natchurl  turn  fer  talk- 
in'  fit  to  kill. — 

The  best  and  hardest  thing  to  learn  is  trick 
o'  keepin'  still." 


LIII 

Doc  kin    smoke,  and  I   s'pose  he   might  drink 

licker — jes  fer  fun. 
He  says,  "  You  smoke,  yon  drink  all  right ;  but 

/don't  —  neether   one"  — 
Says,   "  I  like  whiskey  —  '  good  old  rye  '  -  -  but 

like  it  in  its  place, 
Like  that-air  warter  in  your  eye,  er  nose  there 

on  your  face." 


LIV 

Doc  's  bound   to   have   his  joke  !     The  day  he 

got  that  off  on  me 
I  jes    had   sold    a    load    o'    hay    at    "  Scofield's 

Livery," 
And    tolled    Doc    in    the    shed    they    kep'    the 

hears't   in,   where   I   'd   hid 
The   stuff  'at   got   me    "  out   o'  step,"  as  Sifers 

said  it  did. 


LV 

Doc  hain't,  to  say,  no  "rollin'  stone"  and  yit  he 

hain't  no  hand 
Fer  'cumulatiif. — Home  's  his  own,  and   scrap 

o'  farmin'-land  — 
Enough  to   keep  him  out  the  way  when   folks 

is  tuk  down  sick 
The  suddentest — 'most  any  day  they  want  him 

'special  quick. 


59 


LVI 

And  yit  Doc  loves  his  practice ;  ner  don't,  wil 
ful,  want  to  slight 

No  call  —  no  matter  who  —  how  fur  away  —  er 
day  er  night. — 

He  loves  his  work  —  he  loves  his  friends  — 
June,  Winter,  Fall,  and  Spring: 

His  lovin*  —  facts  is  —  never  ends;  he  loves  jes 
everything.  .  .  . 


LVII 

'Cept  —  keepin'  books.     He  never  sets  down  no 

accounts. —  He  hates, 
The  worst  of  all,  collectin'   debts  —  the   worst, 

the   more  he  waits.  — 
I  Ve  knowed  him,  when  at  last  he  had  to  dun 

a  man,  to  end 
By  makin'   him   a  loan  —  and   mad  he  had   n't 

more  to  lend. 


6o 


LVIII 

When    Pence's    Drug    Store    ust    to   be    in   full 

blast,  they  wuz  some 
Doc's    patients     got     things      frekantly     there, 

charged  to  him,  i  gum  !  — 
Doc  run  a  bill  there,  don't  you  know,  and  allus 

when  he  squared, 
He    never    questioned    nothin', — so   he  had  his 

feelin's  spared. 


LIX 

Now    sich    as    that,    I   hold    and    claim,    hain't 

Reusable  —  it  's  not 
Perfessional!  —  It  's   jes  a  shame  'at  Doc  his- 

se'f  hain't  got 
No  better  business-sense  !     That  's  why  lots  'd 

respect  him  more, 
And   not  give   him    the   clean   go-by   fer  other 

doctors.      Shore ! 


LX 

This-here  Doc  Glenn,  fer  instance;  er  this  little 
jack-leg  Hall ;  — 

They  're  business  —  folks  respects  'em  fer  their 
business  more  'n  all 

They  ever  knowed,  er  ever  will,  'bout  medi 
cine. —  Yit  they 

Collect  their  money,  k-yore  er  kill. —  They  're 
business,  anyway ! 


64 


LXI 

You  ast   Jake  Dunn  ;  —  he  's  worked  it  out  in 

figgers. —  He  kin  show 
Stastistics  how  Doc  's  airnt  about  three  fortunes 

in  a  row, — 
Ever'     ten-year'     hand-runnm'     straight — three 

of  'em  —  thirty  year' 
'At    Jake    kin    count    and    'lucidate    o'    Sifers' 

practice  here. 


LXII 

Yit  —  "Praise    the    Lord,"    says    Doc,   "  we   Vc 

got  our  little  home!"  says  he  — 
"(It  's  railly    Winnifcrd's,  but  what  she  owns, 

she  sheers  with  me.) 
We'    got    our    little    gyarden-spot,   and    peach- 

and  apple-trees, 
And  stable,  too,  and  chicken-lot,  and  eighteen 

hive'  o'   bees." 


• 


>  ffl  :- 


67 


LXIII 

You    call    it    anything    you    please,    but    it    's 

witchcraft — the  power 
'At  Sifers  has  o'  handlin'  bees  !  —  He  '11  watch 

'em  by  the  hour — 
Mix    right    amongst    'em,    mad    and    hot    and 

swarmin' !  —  yit  they  won't 
Sting  him,  er  want  to — 'pear  to  not, —  at  least 

I  know  they  don't. 

LXIV 

With  me  and  bees  they  's  no  f  tense  o'  social- 

bility  — 
A   dad-burn   bee   'u'd    climb    a   fence   to   git  a 

whack  at  me! 
I   s'pose   no   thing    'at   's  got  a    sting    is   railly 

satisfied 
It  's  sharp   enough,  ontel,  i  jing!    he  's  honed 

it  on  my  hide  ! 


68 


LXV 


And    Doc    he   's    allus    had   a   knack    inventin' 

things.  —  Dee-vised 
A  windlass  wound  its  own  se'f  back  as  it  run 

down  :   and  s'prised 
Their  new  hired  girl  with  clothes-line,  too,  and 

clothes-pins,  all  in  one  : 

Purt'-nigh    all    left   fer  her  to   do  wuz   git    her 
primpitf  done  ! 


LXVI 


And  onc't,  I  mind,  in  airly  Spring,  and  tappin' 

sugar-trees, 
Doc   made  a  dad-burn   little   thing   to   sharpen 

spiles  with  —  these- 
Here  wood'-spouts  'at  the  peth  's  punched  out, 

and  driv'   in  where  they  bore 
The   auger-holes.      He    sharpened  'bout  a  mil 

lion  spiles  er  more  ! 


i 


LXVII 

And  Doc  's   the  first  man  ever  swung  a  bucket 

on  a  tree 
Instid  o'  troughs;  and  first  man  brung  grained 

SUgar  —  so  's  'at  he 
Could    use    it    fer    his   coffee,  and   fer    cookin', 

don't  you  know. — 
Folks   come    clean   up    from    Pleasantland  'fore 

they  'd  believe  it,  though  ! 


LXVIII 

And  all  Doc's  stable-doors  clocks  and  locks 
theirseves — and  gates 

The  same  way; — all  rigged  up  like  clocks,  with 
pulleys,  wheels,  and  weights, — 

So,  's  Doc  says,  "  drivin'  out,  er  in,  they  '11 
open;  and  they  '11  then, 

All  quiet-like,  shet  up  ag'in  like  little  gentle 
men  !  " 


LXIX 

And  Doc  'ud  made  a  mighty  good  detective. 

Neighbers  all 
Will    testify    to    that — er   could,   ef  they   wuz 

legal  call  : 
His    theories    on    any    crime    is    worth    your 

listenin'  to. — 
And  he  has  hit  'em,   many  a   time,   'long  Tore 

established  true. 


, 


LXX 

At  this  young'  druggist  Wenfield  Pence's  trial 

fer  his  life, 
On    primy    faishy    evidence     o'     pizonin'    his 

wife, 
Doc's  testimony  saved  and  cle'red  and  'quitted 

him  and  freed 
Him    so  's    he    never    even  'peared   cog-//zzant 

of  the  deed ! 


LXXI 

The  facts  wuz  —  Sifers  testified, —  at  inquest  he 

had  found 
The    stummick    showed    the    woman    died    o' 

pizon,  but  had  downed 
The    dos't    herse'f, —  because    amount  and   cost 

o'  drug   imployed 
No  druggist  would,  on   no  account,  a-lavished 

and  distroyed  ! 


LXXII 

Doc   tracked    a    blame-don  burgler  down,  and 

nailed  the  scamp,  to  boot, 
But    told    him    ef   he    'd    leave    the    town    he 

would  n't  prosecute. 
He    traced   him    by  a   tied-up    thumb-print    in 

fresh  putty,  where 
Doc  glazed   it.      Jes   that  's  how  he  come   to 

track  him  to  his  lair ! 


LXXIII 

Doc  's  jes  a  leetle  too  inclined,  some  thinks, 
to  overlook 

The  criminal  and  vicious  kind  we  'd  ort  to 
bring  to  book 

And  punish,  'thout  no  extry  show  o'  sympa 
thizing  where 

They  hain't  showed  none  fer  us,  you  know. 
But  he  takes  issue  there : 


79 


LXXIV 

Doc  argies  'at  "The  Red-eyed  Law,"  as  lie 
says,  "  ort  to  learn 

To  lay  a  mighty  leenient  paw  on  deeds  o'  sich 
concern 

As  only  the  Good  Bein'  knows  the  wherefore 
of,  and  spreads 

His  hands  above  accused  and  sows  His  mer 
cies  on  their  heads." 


8o 


LXXV 

Doc  even  holds  'at  murder  hain't  no  crime  we 
got  a  right 

To  hang  a  man  fer  —  claims  it  's  taint  o'  lu 
nacy,  er  quite. — 

"  Hold  sick  a  man  responsibul  fer  murder," 
Doc  says, — "  then, 

When  he  's  hung,  where  's  the  rope  to  pull 
them  sound-mind  jurymen  ? 


LXXVI 

"It  's  in  a  nutshell  —  all  kin  see,"  says  Doc, — 

"  it  's  cle'r  the  Law  's 
As  ap'  to  err  as   you  er  me,  and  kill  without 

a  cause : 
The    man    most   innocent    o'  sin  /  Ve    saw,  er 

Aspect  to  see, 
Wuz    servin'    a    life-sentence    in    the    peniten- 

tchury." 


LXXVII 

And  Doc  's  a  whole  hand  at  a  fire !  —  directin' 
how  and  where 

To  set  your  ladders,  low  er  higher,  and  what 
first  duties  air, — 

Like  formin'  warter-bucket-line ;  and  best  man 
in  the  town 

To  chop  holes  in  old  roofs,  and  mine  defec 
tive  chimblies  down : 


LXXVIII 

Er  durin'   any   public    crowd,   mass-meetin',  er 

big  day, 
Where  ladies  ort  n't  be  allowed,  as  I  've  heerd 

Sifers  say, — 
When  they  's  a  suddent  rush  somewhere,  it  's 

Doc's  voice,  ca'm  and  cle'r, 
Says,    "Fall    back,   men,   and    give  her  air!  — 

that  's  all  she  's  faintin'  fer." 


84 


LXXIX 

The  sorriest  I  ever  feel  fer  Doc  is  when  some 

show 
Er  circus   comes  to  town  and   he  '11   not   git  a 

chance  to  go. 
'Cause  he  jes  natchurly  flights   in   circuses — 

clean  down 
From    tumblers,    in    their    spangled    tights,    to 

trick-mule  and  Old   Clown. 


LXXX 

And    ever'body    knows    it,    too,    how    Doc    is, 

thataway !  .  .   .  . 
I    mind    a    circus    onc't    come    through  —  wuz 

there  myse'f  that  day. — 
Ringmaster    cracked    his    whip,    you    know,    to 

start  the  ridin' — when 
In    runs    Old    Clown  and    hollers     "Whoa!  — 

Ladies  and  gentlemen 


LXXXI 

"  Of  this    vast    audience,    I    fain    would    make 

in^//zry  cle'r, 
And  learn,  find  out,  and  ascertain — Is  Doctor 

Sifers  here  ?  ' ' 
And    when     some    fool-voice     bellers     down  : 

"  He  is  !     He  's  settin'  in 
Full   view   o'   ye !  "     "  Then;'  says   the   Clown, 

"  the  circus  may  begin  !  " 

6* 


86 


LXXXII 

Doc    's    got    a    temper ;    but,    he    says,    he    's 

learnt  it  which  is  boss, 
Yit   has    to    watch    it,    more    er    less.    ...    I 

never  seen  him  cross 
But    onc't,     enough    to    make    him    swear ;  — 

milch-cow  stepped  on  his  toe, 
And  Doc  ripped  out  "  /  doggies  !  " — There  's 

the  only  case  I  know. 


LXXXIII 

Doc   says    that   's   what    your   temper  's   fer  — 

to  hold  back  out  o'  view, 
And   learn   it   never  to  occur  on  out  ahead  o' 

you. 

"  You    lead    the  way,"   says  Sifers  —  "git  your 

temper  back  in  line  — 
And  furdest  back  the  best,  ef  it  's  as  mean  a 

one  as  mine  !  " 


89 


LXXXIV 

He  hates  contentions  —  can't   abide   a  wrangle 

er  dispute 
O'  any  kind ;    and  he  'till  slide  out  of  a  crowd 

and  skoot 
Up    some    back-alley    'fore    he    '11    stand    and 

listen  to  a  furse 
When  ary  one  's  got  upper-hand  and  t'  other 

one  's  got  worse. 


LXXXV 

Doc  says :  "  I  'spise,  when  pore  and  weak  and 
awk'ard  talkers  fails, 

To  see  it  's  them  with  hardest  cheek  and  loud 
est  mouth  prevails. — 

A'  all-one-sided  quarr'l  '11  make  me  biased, 
mighty  near, — 

'Cause  ginerly  the  side  I  take  's  the  one  I 
never  hear." 


LXXXVI 

What    'peals    to    Doc    the    most    and    best    is 

"  seein'  folks  agreed, 

And  takin'   ekal   interest  and  universal  heed 
O'  ever'body  else  *s  words  and  idies — same  as 

we 
Wuz    glad    and    chirpy    as    the    birds — jes    as 

we  'd  ort  to  be ! " 


LXXXVII 

And  paterotic !     Like   to  git  Doc  started,  full 

and  fair, 
About   the   war,  and   why  't   'uz  fit,  and  what 

wuz  'complished  there ; 
"  And  who  wuz  wrong"  says  Doc,  "  er  right, 

't  'uz  waste  o'  blood  and  tears, 
All   prophesied  in  Black  and    White  fer  years 

and  years  and  years  !  " 


93 


LXXXVIII 

And  then  he  '11  likely  kind  o'  tetch  on  old  John 

Brown,  and  dwell 
On    what    his    warnin's    wuz ;    and    ketch    his 

breath  and  cough,  and  tell 
On    down    to    Lincoln's    death.     And    then  — 

well,  he  jes  chokes  and  quits 
With  "I  must  go  now,  gentlemen!"  and  grabs 

his  hat,  and  gits! 

LXXXIX 

Doc's  own  war-rickord  wuz  n't  won  so  much 

in  line  o'   fight 
As  line  o'  work  and  nussin'  done  the  wownded, 

day  and  night. — 
His  wuz  the  hand,  through  dark  and  dawn,  'at 

bound  their  wownds,   and  laid 
As   soft    as    their   own    mother's    on    their   for- 

reds  when  they  prayed.   .   .   . 


94 


xc 

His  wuz  the  face  they  saw  the  first — all  dim, 

but  smilin'  bright, 
As   they  come   to   and   knowed   the   worst,  yit 

saw  the  old  Red-White- 
And-Blue    where     Doc     had     fixed     it     where 

they  'd  see  it  wavin*  still, 
Out     through     the     open     tent-flap    there,     er 

'cros't  the  winder-sill. 


XCI 

And     some     's     a-limpin'     round    here     yit  — 

a-waitin'   Last  Review,  — 
'U'd  give  the  pensions  'at  they  git,  and   pawn 

their  crutches,  too, 
To  he'p  Doc  out,  ef  he  wuz  pressed  financial' — 

same  as  he 
Has  allus  he'pped  them  when  distressed  —  ner 

never  tuk  a  fee. 


97 


xcn 

Doc   never   wuz   much    hand    to   pay   attention 

to  p' fence 
And    fuss -and -feathers    and  display   in   men   o' 

prominence  : 
"A  railly  great  man,"  Sifers  'lows,  "  is  not  the 

out'ard  dressed  — 
All    uniform,    salutes    and    bows,    and    swellin' 

out  his  chest 


98 


XCIII 

"  I    met  a   great   man   onc't,"    Doc   says,    "  and 

shuk  his  hand,"   says  he, 
"  And   he  come  'bout   in   o)ie,    I   guess,  o'  dis- 

app'intin'  me  — 
He    talked    so    common-like,    and    brought    his 

mind  so  cle'r  in  view 
And    simple-like,    I    purt'-nigh    thought,   '/';;/ 

best  man  o'  the  two  ! '  " 


XCIV 

-^z>/  Doc  's  got  convictions  and  old-fash 
ioned  kind  o'  ways 

And  idies  'bout  this  glorious  Land  o'  Freedom  ; 
and  he  '11  raise 

His  hat  clean  off,  no  matter  where,  jes  ever1 
time  he  sees 

The  Stars  and  Stripes  a-floatin'  there  and  flap- 
pin'  in  the  breeze. 


IOI 


xcv 

And  tunes  like  old  "  Red,  White  and  Blue  "  '11 

fairly   drive   him  wild, 
Played   on    the    brass    band,    marchin'    through 

the  streets  !     Jes  like  a  child 
I  Ve  saw  that  man,  his  smile  jes  set,  all  kind  o' 

pale  and  white, 
Bare-headed,   and  his   eyes   all  wet,  yit  dancin' 

with  delight ! 

XCVI 

And   yit,   that   very   man    we    see    all   trimbly, 

pale  and  wann, 
Give  him  a  case  o'  surgery,  we  '11  see  another 

man  !  — 
We    '11    do    the    trimblin'    then,  and    we  '11    git 

white  around  the  gills  — 
He  '11  show  us  nerve  o'  nerves,  and  he  'ull  show 

us  skill  o'   skills! 


102 


XCVII 

Then    you    could    toot    your    horns    and    beat 

your  drums  and  bang  your  guns, 
And    wave    your    flags    and    march    the    street, 

and  charge,  all  Freedom's  sons!  — 
And  Sifers  then,  I  bet  my  hat,  'u'd  never  flinch 

a  hair, 
But,  stiddy-handed,   'tend  to  that  pore  patient 

layin'  there. 


XCVIII 

And    Sifers'   eye  's  as   stiddy    as    that   hand    o' 

his!— He  '11  shoot 
A'    old-style    rifle,    like    he    has,    and    smallest 

bore,  to  boot, 
With  any  fancy  rifles  made   to-day,  er   expert 

shot 
'At    works    at    shootin'    like   a   trade  —  and    all 

some  of  'em  's  got ! 


105 


XCIX 

Let  'em  go   right  out  in  the   woods  with  Doc, 

and  leave  their  "  traps  " 
And    blame   glass-balls  and  queensware-goods, 

and  see  how  Sifers  draps 
A  squirrel  out  the  tallest  tree.  —  And  'fore  he 

fires  he  '11  say 
Jes  where   he   '11   hit   him  —  yes,  sir-cc/      And 

he  's  hit  thataway ! 


Let  'em  go  out  with  him,  i  jucks !  with  fishin'- 

pole  and  gun, — 
And    ekal    chances,   fish    and    ducks,    and    take 

the  rain,  er  sun, 
Jes  as  it  pours,  er  as   it  blinds  the   eye-sight ; 

then,  I  guess, 
'At  they  'd  acknowledge,   in  their  minds,  their 

disadvantages. 


i  o6 


CI 

And  yit  he  'd  be  the  last  man  out  to  flop  his 

wings  and  crow 
Insultin'-like,  and   strut   about  above  his  fallen 

foe!  — 
No-sir/    the    hand    'at    tuk    the    wind    out    o' 

their  sails  'ud  be 
The   very   first   they   grabbed,   and    grinned   to 

feel  sich  sympathy. 

CTI 

Doc  gits  off  now  and  then  and  takes  a  huntin'- 
trip  somewhere 

'Bout  Kankakee,  up  'mongst  the  lakes — some 
times  '11  drift  round  there 

In  his  canoe  a  week  er  two ;  then  paddle  clean 
on  back 

By  way  o'  old  Wabash  and  Blue,  with  fish  — 
all  he  kin  pack, — 


io8 


cm 

And   wild    ducks — some   with  feathers   on   'em 

yit,  and  stuffed  with  grass. 
And    neighbers — all   knows   he  's    bin   gone — 

comes  round  and   gits  a  bass  — 
A  great  big  double-breasted  "rock,"  er  "black," 

er  maybe  pair 
Half  fills  a'  ordinary  crock.   .   .   .   Doc's  fish  '11 

give  out  there 


CIV 

Long  'fore  his  ducks!  —  But  folks  '11  smile  and 

blandish  him,  and  make 
Him  tell  and  tell  things! — all  the  while  enjoy 

'em  jes  fer  sake 
O'  pleasin'  him;    and  then  turn  in  and  la'nch 

him  from  the  start 
A-tellin'   all   the  things  ag'in   they  railly  know 

by  heart. 


II 


cv 

He    's  jes    a    child,    's    what    Sifers    is !     And- 

sir,   I  'd  ruther  see 
That    happy,    childish   face    o'   his,    and    puore 

simplicity, 
Than    any    shape   er   style   er   plan    o'    mortals 

otherwise  — 
With   perfect   faith   in    God   and    man   a-shinin' 

in  his  eyes. 


TAMAM. 


14  DAY  USE 

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